


So You Won't Forget

by DarthAstris



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Just sayin', and how she got on Jakku, just some sad shit, my theory about who rey is, seriously, this could work y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 10:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8574505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthAstris/pseuds/DarthAstris
Summary: His hand hovered over his lightsaber.  He could do it right now.  So quick.  Painless.  She would never even know.
  This is what you came here to do.  It's the only way to save her. He'll never leave her alone. She'll be tormented night and day, and Father and Mother won't help her. Even Uncle Luke won't help her.  No one will. She'll be miserable and alone and lose everything she loves and everything that makes her who she is and it will be all your fault.  It's too late for you, but not for her.
But what if there were another way? What if...Ben's hand moved from his lightsaber to his belt pouch. He took some hair ties out and pulled her hair up into a simplified Alderaanian style he’d seen his mother wear, back when her hair was longer.  He sectioned out the dark brown strands into three parts and pulled each up into a bun, letting the hair that trailed out of each knot become part of the next.  “There you go,” he said, sniffling and surreptitiously wiping a tear away with the back of his hand.  “One for dad, one for mom, and one for me.”  He fought to keep his voice steady and light-hearted, but it quavered and broke. “So you won’t forget us.”





	

"Han, it's time. He'll be an adult soon and then what will we do?"

The smuggler chuffed, "16? I was running cons from the time I was 7, what do numbers have to do with anything?"

"Yes, and I'm sure all those stories of yours were immensely conducive to his upbringing."

"Hey! What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean? It's probably done him a great deal better than that _fancyfrack_ academy you've got him in.  All coddled and pampered," he scoffed. "At least I taught him how to defend himself! That little First Order military brat got what he deserved."

"He got what he _wanted_ , Han. An intergalactic incident."

They were arguing.

About him.

Again.

Ben could hear their strident voices, cutting through more than just the walls.

“I knew Luke never should’ve given him that thing.  It’s too dangerous.” His father’s voice, lower. “ _He’s_ too dangerous.”

His mother’s voice, warning. “Han…”

“Where is it now? Does he still have it?”

“Of course not.  I took it away and put it somewhere safe.”

His brows knitted in concentration, Ben tuned out the rest of the fight and skimmed the edges of his mother’s thoughts.  He had to be careful, here, for she could sense him as easily as he could her, but if she was _talking_ about hiding the lightsaber then that meant she was _thinking_ about it, too.  He saw a brief flash of a carved, wooden chest with pearlescent inlays.  It was enough.  He knew exactly where she kept that.  The only problem was, it was in her room.  The one they were arguing in.

Ben rammed a fist into his pillow, growling in frustration.  The Voice slithered into the back of his mind, gaining easy entry whenever he expressed his anger. 

 _They don’t love you.  They_ fear _you._

His stomach turned, as it always did when the Voice was in his head.  He bit down on a knuckle to stop the rush of nausea from overtaking him.

When he was doing his lightsaber routines, like his uncle had taught him, he could keep his head clear.  The Voice didn’t bother him then.  But his parents didn’t trust him, and now they’d taken it away.  Why didn’t they believe him? He _needed_ it.  Without it, he might hurt someone even worse the next time.

 _And well they should be afraid.  You’re a violent, dangerous beast, rattling its cage.  It’s only a matter of time before you break free.  Before you_ really _hurt someone_.  _It’s in your blood.  They lie to you about it, but you can’t deny it.  You know that what I've told you is true. You feel the fear, the anger.  Soon it will be unleashed and you won’t be able to control it without me.  I can help you.  They can’t.  They don’t_ want _to.  They want to keep you weak and afraid.  Because they're afraid of_ you _.  Let me show you the true power you possess._

It was true.  It was all true.  He was a monster, unworthy of love.  He had tried to control his temper but he just couldn’t.  It was an accident.  He hadn’t meant to hurt that stuck-up, red-headed jerk; he just didn’t want to lose the fight, and the other boy was older and taller than him.  But he’d hurt him anyway, and badly.

_I can feel your turmoil.  Why don’t you just let yourself go? Show them what you really are? They don’t know you.  They never even tried to understand you.  They don’t deserve your empathy._

“No…” he whimpered, fighting to hold in the tears that stung the corners of his eyes. 

_So, you love them, then.  After all they’ve put you through.  Even now, you want to keep them safe._

He gripped the edge of the bed, white-knuckled and choking back sobs.

_The only way to do that is to leave them.  Come to me.  Let me teach you to control the unimaginable power that dwells within you.  I feel it.  I was like you, once.  Only I understand what you're going through. It burns you from the inside out, like acid eating through the walls of a weakened container.  Soon, it will spill out and burn someone you love.  Your friends.  Your father.  Your mother. Your sis—_

“Stop it!” he yelped, clamping down his mental barriers.  The Voice had been silenced, but for how long Ben couldn’t say.  He had to act fast.  Before his father got too angry and left again.  This might be his last chance.

Standing up, he swayed on his feet for a moment as the black sickness faded from his body and mind, listening to be sure his parents hadn’t heard him shout.

“I _told_ you—”

“—And _I’m_ telling _you_ —” 

They hadn’t.

He grabbed his datapad, credstick, and the makeshift lightsaber he kept hidden on the top shelf of his closet (where no one could reach it without the Force, or a step-ladder) and raced to his sister’s room.

Kira was sitting on the floor, playing with her dolls and model X-Wings – an odd mixture of Ewoks and Rancors at tea with famous senators, Rebellion war heroes, and Imperial Stormtroopers, all about to be blasted to bits by the incoming star fighters.  She was dressed in her Padawan robes (hadn't hardly taken them off since Uncle Luke had given them to her, actually) and pretending (or trying) to use the Force to float the ships as she guided them in to strike with her other hand.  “Pew, pew, pew— Ben!” she smiled when she caught sight of him standing in the doorway.  “Wanna play? You can float the X-Wings for me! Pleeeeeeease?”

Putting on his most dashing smile, he grinned at her innocent antics (and had trouble keeping the sadness from his eyes, seeing the same happiness in her that he'd once had before the Voice had come), “How about something better?”

Kira caught on quickly to his conspiratorial tone.  “Like what?” she whispered, eyes widening.

“Remember that ride I promised you in the _Falcon_?”

She nodded her head, long bangs falling into her eyes as her head bobbed in excitement.  “Uh-huh?”

“Let’s go now.”

“Right now?” She dropped the X-Wing.

“Yeah, come on.” He held out his hand to her and she bounced over to him, gripping it tightly. 

Ben led her out to the pad where his speeder bike was parked – fortunately in the opposite direction of the room where their parents were still yelling at each other – and took a few minutes to properly attach a safety helmet to the squirming girl.  “Nooooo…” she whined, “Helmets are for dum-dums!”

“It’s for safety, Kira.  Hold still.”

“ _You_ don’t wear one!”

“That’s because I’m a dum-dum.  All the best pilots wear helmets, you know. X-Wing pilots _all_ wear helmets.” 

She giggled and seemed to think about that for a moment, sticking her chin out and screwing up her face in consideration.  Ben took the opportunity to fasten her chinstrap.  She gave him the side-eye.

“Daddy’s the _best_ pilot, and _he_ doesn’t wear one.”

“That’s because Daddy’s the biggest dum-dum of them all,” he smirked, lifting her up and setting her on the seat in front of him.

Her laugh was as bright and high as a sweet melody.  He was going to miss it.

“Hold on tight, kiddo.”

She leaned forward with him and put her tiny hands over his, making engine noises and pretending to fly it herself as he roared out of the garage and into the main traffic lanes of Hosnian Prime’s busy skyways.  Heading for the Senate Plaza Spaceport, the wind whipped through his wavy hair, helping to keep his mind focused with its cold clarity.

He didn’t want to do this, but he _had_ to do it.  And he couldn't let himself be afraid or angry about it, lest the Voice slip back in and discover his plans.  Years of violation had taught him how to conceal his most private thoughts from the Voice, but it could always find a way in when he gave in to his darker urges.

He parked his bike and helped her off of it, popping up the seat to store the helmet underneath before walking to the hangar bay.  Kira darted ahead the instant the helmet was off, unable to contain her excitement.  Ben approached more casually, keeping an eye out for Uncle Chewie.  He hadn’t come to the house with Dad this time, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t here somewhere.  What might be his last chance would be ruined if the Wookie caught them.

There were a few plump guards patrolling the walkways, but no security stationed by the bay doors (who would dare steal the ship of a diplomat or a senator?); it didn’t matter anyway because Ben knew the access codes by heart.  He'd flown in the Falcon hundreds of times with his father, and if Han had taught him anything it was to always pay attention to detail.  The smallest detail could mean the difference between life and death.  Like right now.

A cursory check of the ship showed that they were alone in the hangar.  _Perfect_.

Before long he and Kira were seated in the cockpit of the _Millennium Falcon_ , Ben running pre-flight checks and letting Kira sit in the co-pilot’s seat as he instructed her on how to help out.

“Ready?” he asked, leaning over to buckle her in.

“All systems go!” she squealed in delight.

“Alright, then.  Here we go!”

He hit the button for the main thrusters and pulled back on the throttle slowly, easing the aging ship through the hangar bay doors and out into the darkening sky. 

“Oooo…” Kira murmured, already worming her way out of the seatbelt so she could get a better view of the city lights twinkling in the purple dusk below.

A sad smile curled his lips as he watched her eyes shine with wonder.  He should have told her to stay in the seat, but he couldn’t bring himself to deny her this last, beautiful view of her home.

Ben turned the ship skyward and throttled the engines up to full power.  The hull rattled and something under the deck plates popped loose and clanged as the ship groaned its way up through the atmosphere.  He hoped it wasn’t anything important breaking off.  Things were _always_ breaking on the _Falcon_.  No alarms had sounded, though, which might have been a first for the old freighter.  The shuddering and bouncing stopped once they’d broken through into low orbit, and Ben made a slow circuit of the planet to entertain Kira while he entered in the hyperspace coordinates manually.

Just as they were about to make the jump to lightspeed the comm panel chimed. 

_That was fast…_

Ben ignored it, punching in the data and reaching overhead to power on the hyperdrive.

Having overridden the comm system lockouts, Han shouted through the buzz of static.  “Ben Organa, you get your ass back here _right now_! You are _grounded_ , mister! Where in the Nine Hells do you think you’re going in my sh—”

Ben shut it off again and pulled the levers to make the jump to lightspeed.  The ship hummed and Ben felt his stomach drop as the stars elongated and streaked by outside the viewports.

In the silence that followed, he noticed Kira staring at him, wide-eyed.

“Oooo, you’re gonna be in trouble.”

Ben shrugged and made a face.  “What’s new about that?”  He flipped on the autopilot switch and slotted his datapad into the interface so he could slice into and override the transponder.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Running a diagnostic,” he lied.

“Where we goin’?”

“Jakku,” he didn’t lie.

“What’s there?”

His voice brightened, “A huge starship graveyard from the last battle between the Empire and the Rebel Alliance.  It’s really something to see.  You can crawl around inside old Star Destroyers and find all kinds of neat stuff.” Like that old, cracked kyber crystal he'd found inside the rusted out shell of a turbolaser cannon the last time he was there.  The one that now resided inside his back-up lightsaber.

“Ooo! When do we get there?”

“About an hour on these spacelanes.” He'd had to run their course through several misleading jumps, in case his slicing of the transponder wasn't up to snuff.

“Is that a long time?”

“Well, it’s a little while.  D’you wanna play some dejarik?”

“Yeah!” She bounded off toward the passenger lounge and jumped up onto the ratty spacer’s couch that was older than the both of them combined.  From the tattered look and musty smell of it, Ben guessed it might even be older than his father.  _Hell, what_ isn't _older than dirt on this ship?_   It had certainly been there at least as far back as he could remember.

He sat down across from her, watching her delicate hands as she flipped all the switches to turn on the game and set up the pieces.  Kira didn’t actually know how to play very well (or at all); she just enjoyed the spectacle of holographic alien creatures pounding the _kark_ out of each other.

Of course, Ben let her win, though he tried not to make it too obvious.

The joy they shared was tainted for Ben, because he knew it was all coming to an end.  Time passed too quickly, in the way that it did when one knew something tragic and irreversible was about to occur.  Every smile on her face, every bright giggle, every punch to his arm when he won a round – all of it was rushing by too fast, like flashes of the past committed to memory but already in danger of fading.  He wished he'd calculated out a longer course, but the longer it took him to finish this, the more he risked the Voice returning.

He took a deep breath.  “Hey, come here a second.” Ben patted the sofa, a puff of dust rising under his fingertips. 

Kira looked at him suspiciously.  She had their mother’s eyes and keen sense of deduction.  “How come?”

“I want to fix your hair up.  It’s sandy and windy and hot down there, and you won’t want it to be all sweaty and stuck to your face.”

“Ok,” she accepted his answer and turned around, sitting in front of him.  “Can I do yours after?”

“We’ll see.”

_Do it now.  Just get it over with._

His hand hovered over his lightsaber.  He _could_ do it right now.  So quick.  Painless.  She would never even know.

_This is what you came here to do.  It's the only way to save her. He'll never leave her alone. She'll be tormented night and day, and Father and Mother won't help her. Even Uncle Luke won't help her.  No one will. She'll be miserable and alone and lose everything she loves and everything that makes her who she is and it will be all your fault.  It's too late for you, but not for her. You know it's true! Do it! It's the only way!_

But what if there were another way? _What if..._

The story could stay the same: they went for a joyride and were attacked by pirates. The ship was taken, Kira was killed.  He'd already arranged passage to Nar Shaddaa, where he could pretend to have "escaped" and run away.  Kira didn't have to _actually_ die for any of that to happen though...

Ben's hand moved from his lightsaber to his belt pouch. He took some hair ties out and pulled her hair up into a simplified Alderaanian style he’d seen his mother wear, back when her hair was longer.  He sectioned out the dark brown strands into three parts and pulled each up into a bun, letting the hair that trailed out of each knot become part of the next.  “There you go,” he said, sniffling and surreptitiously wiping a tear away with the back of his hand.  “One for dad, one for mom, and one for me.”  He fought to keep his voice steady and light-hearted, but it quavered and broke. “So you won’t forget us.”

“Whaddaya mean ‘forget you’? You’re right here, silly!” she turned around to face him and stopped mid-giggle at the sight of his trembling lip and red-rimmed, watery eyes.

His gaze hardened as he steeled his resolve, took her by the shoulders, and looked her in the eye, the power of the Force flowing into his voice and strengthening it.  “You will forget your name.  You will forget your friends.  You will forget your family.  You will forget where you come from and you will forget this ship. You don’t know Mom, or Dad, or Uncle Chewie, or Uncle Luke... or me…” He took a deep, trembling breath as she repeated everything, her eyes glassy and her small voice entranced by his power.  “But you will remember that we love you, and you will live on Jakku and you will be afraid to leave it, because someday we might come back for you.”

“…someday, you’ll come back for me…” she finished, flatly.

Concentrating, Ben erected a mental barrier around her nascent Force powers.  She didn't even know she had them yet; it was relatively easy to lock them away and make her forget she ever had the potential.  He waved his hand in front of her face and caught her as she collapsed, unconscious, laying her out on the couch to sleep.  Ben went down to the loading ramp where the ship’s name gleamed from a polished, bronzium plate near the control panel.  His lightsaber stuttered as it sparked to life. The red blade hissed into existence, followed by two shorter quillons of jagged plasma flaming out from two small vents on either side of the crossguard hilt.  It was a dangerous blade, and it made him jump a little every time he turned it on, afraid it might one day explode in his hand.  The Voice had taught him how to make it, but Ben had lacked the proper concentration and patience to see it through to perfection, and he only had the one, damaged crystal to work with.

Ben slashed at the name plate, searing off most of the letters.  It wouldn't matter to his contact; the junk dealer knew whose son he was, and knew the ship was genuine, but if anyone else found it they wouldn't have a clue.  _Mi ... con_ , it now read.

The proximity alarm sounded, and Ben went back to the cockpit to disengage the autopilot and drop them back into realspace.  With a protracted lurch, the ship reverted to sub-light speeds just in time for the approach to the dusty planet.  Arriving at mid-morning, local time, the endless dunes reflected the sunlight into a blinding, sandy white light.  Ben brought the ship down and landed it at a dilapidated outpost, the repulsorlifts and engines kicking up a dust storm as the ship settled onto its creaky landing struts.

Slicing complete, Ben unhooked his datapad and stashed it on the back of his belt, hoping the program had held up long enough for him to land in the dampening field.  He went back to the couch and picked up his sleeping sister.

A fat Crolute, sweating under the hot sun, waddled out to meet him.  "The Millennium Falcon!" his voice gurgled as his hands slapped together with a wet squelch, "I've been wanting this ship since I was just a little tadpole!"

When Ben came down the ramp carrying his still unconscious sister in his arms, Plutt took a step back and tilted his head in suspicion.  "What's this? I'm paying for passage for _one_.  That was the deal! You can't change it now; they're already here!" He motioned with his chubby hands toward a small spacecraft parked nearby.

"She's not going with me.  She's staying here," he said, setting her down on the warm sand as she started to stir.

It took him a moment to catch on, but Unkar Plutt was no fool.  He wasn't about to get drawn into the drama of the most well-known family in the galaxy.  "Oh, no.  No, no, no! You're not leaving her here! I'm not looking after some whiny brat!"

Ben was on his feet and in the alien's face faster than an acklay stabbing at its prey. "You will!" he growled, calling the power of the Force to him as easily as drawing breath, "You will watch over her and protect her like one of your own scavengers! And you'll do it for free!"

The little girl came to with a groan, looking around and blinking sleepily.  She didn't know where she was or how she got here, but the more she tried to think about it, the more she panicked.  In front of her, a young man was screaming at a scary, fish-like alien that she'd never seen before.  She'd never seen either of them before.  His voice was terrifying, but he still looked nicer than the fat alien.  They were arguing.  She'd heard that kind of arguing before somewhere but she couldn't remember where.  She wanted her mommy.  Did she have a mommy? She seemed to remember the feeling of being held, of being loved, but she couldn't recall anyone's face or attach a memory to the sensation.  Overwhelmed, she took a deep, shuddering breath and started to cry.

The boy whirled at the sound and came to kneel in the sand beside her, his face falling from anger to nervous concern. "Stay here.  I'll come back for you." He had kind, sad eyes, but she didn't know who he was.  She thought that she should know, and the thought made her even more confused and scared.

He turned and stomped over to the alien again, leaning close to his face and whispering in an eerie tone, "And you will forget who she is and that I was ever here. You stole this ship from the Irving Boys, who stole it from Ducain."  With that, he walked away toward another ship.  The alien blinked and looked after him in confusion, repeating what the boy had said in a distant voice.

"No! Come back!" she sobbed, getting up to run after him.

A clammy, fat hand closed around her upper arm.

The boy looked over his shoulder; he was crying, too. "I'll come back, sweetheart.  I promise." Then he turned and ran to the small, silver ship and disappeared up the loading ramp.

"Don't go! Don't leave me! Come back!" she cried, voice going hoarse with the depth of her terror and desperation.

"Quiet, girl," the alien grumbled, pulling her away from the departing ship.

She had forgotten everything, but she would never forget the sight of that ship leaving her behind.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment for discussion! I'm always up for Star Wars talk! XD


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